***********************
Wyatt 'Wendigo' Graves
Time nearly freezes in my sight as Liberation pauses the coming doom. I quickly analyze the only thing I can do in this situation, and with a heavy heart, I turn away from Millie. Then, starting to cough out bloody phlegm with hints of dust in it, I heave my Ether with all my being. Dozens of Leashes extend from my hand onto the high above ridge as I attempt to keep the train from shaking off the cliff that we are riding up.
The moment I release the skill upon my mind, I nearly falter. My heart pounds in my chest as I dangle from the chain-like strings of Ether, my body trembling from the strain. The train, a behemoth of steel and people, swings precariously on the edge of the ridge. The weight I'm endeavoring to stabilize is thousands of times beyond my own, but I don't let my confidence falter. It's a battle between gravity and the willpower of a desperate man, the same as almost any other.
Sweat pours down my face, mixing with the crimson dust and sanguineous blood that coats my skin. The Leashes above me groan and creak in protest as I struggle to maintain the connection with my trembling Ether, and I can hear the straining metal beneath my toes echo in the tumultuous roar of the tremors.
The force against my figure only continues to surmount as I'm pulled across the train car, the steel under my boots crumpling like paper. Eventually, I'm drawn to the side of the train, digging my heels into the corner as I'm at a loss for what to do.
The passengers inside the train are terrified, their voices a slowed chorus of panic, even that of the Sigiled who were just fighting alongside me bravely. I can hear their cries, their pleas for salvation, and it only fuels my determination. Virgil shouts something as rocky dust covers my vision from falling stone, and I focus intensely, a Daydream tightening the metal beneath me by force. Following that, I conjure three steel beams made of shimmering Madness to better hold my weight and that of the train.
With a surge of adrenaline, I drag on the chains, my muscles burning with effort. The creaking silver of my right arm and the stretching flesh of my left threaten to release weight, but I don't let them. The train continues to fall sideways on toward the rising drop that only grows with every passing instant.
Unable to shout for aid, I ask that which lies inside while inhaling a risky breath of air. We've been taking turns fighting, allowing each other to recuperate, but it's not enough. I can only hope he's got some extra things for me.
"Blodwyn! Help!"
I don't receive an audible response of any kind, but dozens of bloody tendrils extend from my arms, even that of my prosthetic, shooting off and attaching to that of the ridge. Blodwyn helps me pull as my Strugglers Gasp, provides some much-needed strength.
The train inches back from the precipice, and for a moment, I dare to hope. But the tremors are unrelenting, each one more powerful than the last.
I can feel my body protesting, every fiber screaming in agony. Blodwyn is also groaning in pain, the being struggling to keep up with me. My bones ache, my joints feel like they're about to dislocate, and my grip is slippery with blood. Only the sand that attempts to invade my flesh gives me even the simplest form of traction onto my own fleshy Leashes made by Blodwyn. But I can't give up. I won't give up.
In the depths of my peripherals, I see a spark of light before it hits—the explosion. I have no time to prepare or steady myself, only to react.
Following rumble after the burst of light rocks the ridge like a thunderclap in the midst of a hurricane. The shockwave rips through the air, and my arms are yanked from the tendrils of flesh and my Leashes, my body hurtling through the chaos. Desperation floods my veins as I reach out, desperately clutching for anything to hold on to.
With a final, frantic effort, I manage to latch onto the side of the train, my fingers white-knuckled in their grip. The train hangs on the edge of oblivion, swaying dangerously on the edge of the track, one side not even touching anymore, and I can see the fear in the eyes of the men and women aboard. My left hand tightens onto the train as I glance backward, fighting a precipitous edge to meet me that falls into a reddened oblivion.
We're halfway up the ridge at this point. That's... an over a thousand-foot fall.
I gather every ounce of strength, every iota of willpower, and I pull with everything I have left, hefting my lower body close to the wall of the rearmost cabin, the one in the most threat of tipping it over.
The decision is made before I look for a way out. My eyes scan my surroundings, searching for Primrose's Colt, but I don't find it. It's lost to the winds. Closing my eyes, I Release my legs, then pour as much Ether as I can spare into the limbs without immediately dying from Ether saturation.
I sense a gaze lock onto my body as I finish my preparations, and as the train tilts beyond the point of simply being pulled back on track by anyone, Virgil finds me dangling from the side. Embalmed by a dozen Nightwhips, he extends his hand for me, but I shake my head.
My legs press against the train with all the force I can possibly muster. The metal groans and shatters under the weight of the impact, and my heart pounds in my chest as I watch the wall buckle and bend while growing smaller in my sight, inching back toward its proper place. It's a reckless gamble, but it's our only chance.
As I hurtle through the chaotic storm and over the cliff face, I search for any possible way to save myself. A Leash extends from my hand toward the train, but its speed swiftly makes it swiftly leave my range. The winds buffet me mercilessly, hauling me even further away, and the red sands whip around, lacerating into my flesh. My mind races as I attempt to devise a plan, but it becomes increasingly clear that there's no escape from this free fall. Even Blodwyn's flesh can't extend that far.
With a heavy heart, I contort my body, trying to minimize the damage that's sure to come. I brace for the inevitable impact, hoping it won't be as painful as it seems. Having my legs underneath me and my head tucked in will likely keep me from instantly dying. And as long as I don't perish in a moment, Blodwyn can bring us back.
But something unexpected happens before I fall further to my demise. From the swirling shadows, a figure emerges, lunging toward me with incredible speed. They leap from what appear to be platforms of solidified darkness, reaching out to save me from my impending doom.
Virgil!
Like greased lightning, the man shifts through the air, sprinting upon his own Ether, but my heart wavers as I know his condition. He could barely even stand! What is he doing!?
Despite my thoughts, hope flares in my chest for a brief, surreal moment. Salvation is within reach, an unexpected rescue from the depths of despair. But then, as the shadowy figure reaches for me, only a single step away, disaster strikes. Virgil's leg gives out, and I see a bone jutting out, a gruesome injury that's impossible to walk on.
He crumples with a silent cry, and I see him tumble sideways, something he can't possibly recover from before we hit the ground.
We both begin to fall in that instant, and there's no way to alter our course. We're plummeting toward the ground, caught in the relentless grip of gravity, and there's no escape from the impact that awaits.
The ground, invisible now due to the red sand that covers us in every direction from the storm arriving, is fast approaching. I look at Virgil as we tumble in a freefall and reach for him. He won't survive the impact. His eyes are rolled into the back of his head.
The bastard complains about me pushing myself too far, and look at him! Gritting my teeth, I extend my arm toward him, not quite reaching before I use a long-unused skill. Reach, exploding tiny bits of air in my arm extends the length of the limb just far enough to touch him as I yank him in close. It takes less than a Leash, and I have very little energy to spare, let alone Ether.
Covering him with my arms, I twist in the air, placing myself beneath him in a tiny moment. Then, less than a second later, I feel a brutal impact against my spine. The bone cracks and contorts as pain flashes and then abruptly halts. My eyes widen in alarm as we only continue our plummet.
Though the situation is deadly, my vision wavers with darkness, threatening to put me out. Each moment is stretched into an agonizing eternity, and I fight to stay awake every second, to keep my consciousness intact. Blodwyn grumbles into my ears as he floods me with warmth, doing all he can to recover my spine.
Our journey downward is fraught with peril, and each collision with the jagged rocks is brutal proof of our doom. My body absorbs the brunt of successive impacts without much issue as I expect them, absorbing the punishing blows as they come. The wounds multiply quickly, adding up despite Blodwyn's Angelic prowess. A relentless barrage of pain and suffering overflows my whole body as my spine returns to capacity.
Tightening my jaw, I force myself to be conscious despite the pain and exhaustion. Virgil is out, and Blodwyn, while capable, can't do this alone.
As we tumble through the crimson chaos, my back is suddenly perforated by a starkly red rock as my right arm crashes against the wall, getting stuck in the ridge. I can feel the pointed stone emerging slightly from my chest, poking against Virgil. And despite the pain threatening to overwhelm me, I realize that we've reached a point of calm. The stone through my body has temporarily prevented us from falling. Blood gushes from the wound, mingling with the swirling sands before falling down, only to be caught by the winds.
I gaze upward, hoping to find something, anything to help, but there is only sand. My eyes shift over to my right arm as my left holds Virgil close to me. I rip myself off the rock with a pain-infused cry, letting us dangle from my stuck arm. More blood sinks to the distant ground as I tighten my grip around Virgil. I leverage my hanging arm, attempting to wrench myself free to grab onto a nearby handhold, but my arm doesn't budge.
Gazing up, I find the prosthetic partially bent sideways, my arm sporting two elbows. The pain is far duller than all others, thanks to it not genuinely being my flesh, but I still grimace at the sight. No one ever wants to see their own arm this fucked up.
Exhaustion abruptly dives into my eyes, nearly closing them as I realize just how much blood I've lost. Blodwyn's healing is prodigious, roughly unstoppable, in fact.
But...
He's been healing me for hours.
It's about time he falls into slumber. Mie told me earlier that he is not at his full potential just after awakening. Blodwyn needs time to grow into his new being—time to learn how to speak, how to better use Ether, and how to grow more resilient.
As my thoughts race, they begin to splinter, the darkness creeping in as the warmth from Blodwyn fades. One moment, the moon is vaguely visible through tons of sand; the next, it's gone, so indiscernible with the rising tides of sand that I can't even be certain whether the sun is up either. My consciousness ebbs and flows, a disjointed journey through time as we both try to recover. I wake, each time clawing my way back from the abyss for only moments at a time, just long enough to make sure I still hold onto Virgil. It's like emerging from a bottomless pit, only to be dragged under again by the relentless undertow of agony and exhaustion.
Every moment I rest, the sand digs into Virgil and me, even as I cover him with my own flesh. It's grating, infectious, and unrelenting as I'm drawn back into the dark.
Time loses its grip in this shattered reality. Minutes stretch into agonizing eternities, while hours compress into fleeting moments. It's impossible to tell whether I've been trapped here for minutes, hours, or days.
The world around me is a swirling chaos of agonizing clouds of dust. Suddenly, I'm overwhelmed by a cacophony of sensations—screams, roars, the howling wind, and my own labored breathing. Trembling, I gasp as I wake up, my mind clear and spacious. Yet, even with this lucidity, my wounds are not entirely gone. My chest feels like a gaping wound, throbbing with pain.
Glancing down, I find it still raw, the opening only barely closed with tender flesh. As I inspect myself, I notice Virgil's condition. He is still unconscious, his skin hot to the touch. Then cold. Then both.
Nononono.
No!
Dangling, I try to force myself free as roars from below fill the air and frantically search for any sign of time. Ether fills my eyes as Insight pierces through the clouds momentarily, allowing me to see the moon that has only slightly shifted in the sky.
My heart settles slightly. I wasn't out for very long. Only an hour at most, despite what it felt like. That... or I was out for a full day. No. If Virgil is still alive, it could have only been a short time. Blodwyn and I must have been constantly switching back and forth.
"Blodwyn?"
I plead for my companion, but he hardly responds with a word.
"Mhmm."
Fuck. Blodwyn must be beyond fatigued. I need to get Virgil out of here and up the cliff now. Acute Ether saturation does not play around. How long did I have before the effects started to kill me the first time? It gets worse with each consecutive instance and with the distance one goes beyond the edge, but the first took time to affect me.
An hour? Two? I don't remember. It was all so fuzzy. It might have even been several hours. What I do know now, however, is that my resilience is uncommon. And my body was fully recovered when the woes of the condition befell me.
Virgil?
He's not at the Pale Lady's door, but I wouldn't say he's far from it.
He's low on time. And I'm stuck on the side of a half-mile-tall cliff. Which one of my fucking ancestors made this damned thing!? By the Devil.
They're kicking me in the ass from the grave. Heh.
I glance back up at my stuck arm and sigh. It won't break off if I rip it. The metal is far more robust than the stone, but the steel will probably warp some more. I swirl Ether in my feet as I coat them with Chainlink Boots. Then, I yank my arm backward with all my strength, wrenching it free from the nook that held it from me.
It's wrongly bent, but my hand still works, thanks to Earl's preparative construction. He knew it would get this banged up. Shifting over a bit as my weight is difficult to hold with Chainlink Boots, I grab onto the handhold near me and climb up using one hand. Slowly, I rise, foot by foot, until I reach a small ledge that I roll onto with Virgil, inhaling a breath of relief.
My back hits the blemished stone as sand invades my lungs like every other breath I've taken. But the moment I do, I feel something different about this sand. It's not filled with Ether but some broken sense of purpose.
The instincts hidden within the deep recesses of my blood explode with a warning, and I scream into my own mind, pleading for Blodwyn's Power, as I grab Virgil tightly. I don't even give myself time to search for the origin of this threat as the dust within my lungs rails against me, trying to break out through the inside.
"Blodwyn! Mute!"
The artifact grumbles as it slowly moves to wakefulness, but I feel a massive surge of air around me, the winds moving along with it. Pivoting sideways on the ledge, I realize I can't see any further than the length of my hand. A coldness runs up my fingers and to my spine.
Something's found me.
I shift and sprint, leaping upwards as I shabbily tie Virgil to me with Leashes, the Ether fragile and worrisome as I frantically shimmy my way up the rocks. With every aching muscle, I pull myself upward, my fingertips clawing into the unforgiving rock. My body protests with each movement, but I carry onward with more than just haste for Virgil.
And then, it comes. A tremor that reverberates through the very bones of the earth. I can't explain how I know, but I'm certain. The feeling is one that enters my core, like that of a decree from the depths of reality. The strongest man alive, the one who was attacked by quadruple his number and likely more than one God, has ascended to Godhood. A coldness that I'm unused to races down my spine, knowing that our already dire situation has taken an even darker turn.
As if in response to my realization, the sandstorm around me roars to life with newfound fury. The winds tear at the cliff face, ripping off entire chunks of rock. My grip on the precipice tightens, my knuckles turning white as I dig in further with my Chainlink Boots and rusted fingers.
Then, I see movement in the corner of my eye, what I've been concerned about. A disembodied face, composed entirely of swirling sand and dust, all of it tainted by the ominous crimson hue, hangs without latch or grip in the air beside me. At its center, a grotesque, pulsating heart beats with a wicked rhythm, shielded by the maelstrom of danger that surrounds it.
My breath catches as I hang there, just out of the entity's reach, feeling the malevolence radiating from it—the color of its chains is what concerns me the most.
What have you done, Vincent?
Magenta curls off the heart with tightly bound fetters. I don't even try to fight it in my current condition, and I leap upward, climbing with all the fury I can muster, but the winds refuse to accept my choice. Forces pull at me every which way as the... being shifts closer.
A bizarre, inhuman noise echoes into the air as the rocks I hold onto depart the cliff, a massive portion of the ridge breaking off with me attached. With a deep breath of air, one half of Ether that fuels me and half with a dangerous hint, I lunge forward, attempting to gain leverage to rejoin the cliff.
But before I can jump off the falling rock, the creature places itself between me and the cliff, laughing with a crack in the air. I hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do as I hang suspended in the air for a precarious instant, but the endless makes the choice for me.
A powerful gust, one that reminds me more of Sequester's focused strikes than that of a storm's gales, rips me off the cliff with a sharp slash to my chest, taking Virgil and me straight away and then downward to the ground. This time, there is no grabbing onto the rocks with how far we're flung, and all I can do is grab the man and brace for impact.
I inhale another gasp, defying my wanted death as Ether fills me to the brim. All there is for me to see as we tumble with deadly speeds to the earth is reddened dust, like that of spilled blood from Bonedunes, where Virgil and I first met.
Then, there is only darkness.
***********************
Wyatt 'Wendigo' Graves
Time nearly freezes in my sight as Liberation pauses the coming doom. I quickly analyze the only thing I can do in this situation, and with a heavy heart, I turn away from Millie. Then, starting to cough out bloody phlegm with hints of dust in it, I heave my Ether with all my being. Dozens of Leashes extend from my hand onto the high above ridge as I attempt to keep the train from shaking off the cliff that we are riding up.
The moment I release the skill upon my mind, I nearly falter. My heart pounds in my chest as I dangle from the chain-like strings of Ether, my body trembling from the strain. The train, a behemoth of steel and people, swings precariously on the edge of the ridge. The weight I'm endeavoring to stabilize is thousands of times beyond my own, but I don't let my confidence falter. It's a battle between gravity and the willpower of a desperate man, the same as almost any other.
Sweat pours down my face, mixing with the crimson dust and sanguineous blood that coats my skin. The Leashes above me groan and creak in protest as I struggle to maintain the connection with my trembling Ether, and I can hear the straining metal beneath my toes echo in the tumultuous roar of the tremors.
The force against my figure only continues to surmount as I'm pulled across the train car, the steel under my boots crumpling like paper. Eventually, I'm drawn to the side of the train, digging my heels into the corner as I'm at a loss for what to do.
The passengers inside the train are terrified, their voices a slowed chorus of panic, even that of the Sigiled who were just fighting alongside me bravely. I can hear their cries, their pleas for salvation, and it only fuels my determination. Virgil shouts something as rocky dust covers my vision from falling stone, and I focus intensely, a Daydream tightening the metal beneath me by force. Following that, I conjure three steel beams made of shimmering Madness to better hold my weight and that of the train.
With a surge of adrenaline, I drag on the chains, my muscles burning with effort. The creaking silver of my right arm and the stretching flesh of my left threaten to release weight, but I don't let them. The train continues to fall sideways on toward the rising drop that only grows with every passing instant.
Unable to shout for aid, I ask that which lies inside while inhaling a risky breath of air. We've been taking turns fighting, allowing each other to recuperate, but it's not enough. I can only hope he's got some extra things for me.
"Blodwyn! Help!"
I don't receive an audible response of any kind, but dozens of bloody tendrils extend from my arms, even that of my prosthetic, shooting off and attaching to that of the ridge. Blodwyn helps me pull as my Strugglers Gasp, provides some much-needed strength.
The train inches back from the precipice, and for a moment, I dare to hope. But the tremors are unrelenting, each one more powerful than the last.
I can feel my body protesting, every fiber screaming in agony. Blodwyn is also groaning in pain, the being struggling to keep up with me. My bones ache, my joints feel like they're about to dislocate, and my grip is slippery with blood. Only the sand that attempts to invade my flesh gives me even the simplest form of traction onto my own fleshy Leashes made by Blodwyn. But I can't give up. I won't give up.
In the depths of my peripherals, I see a spark of light before it hits—the explosion. I have no time to prepare or steady myself, only to react.
Following rumble after the burst of light rocks the ridge like a thunderclap in the midst of a hurricane. The shockwave rips through the air, and my arms are yanked from the tendrils of flesh and my Leashes, my body hurtling through the chaos. Desperation floods my veins as I reach out, desperately clutching for anything to hold on to.
With a final, frantic effort, I manage to latch onto the side of the train, my fingers white-knuckled in their grip. The train hangs on the edge of oblivion, swaying dangerously on the edge of the track, one side not even touching anymore, and I can see the fear in the eyes of the men and women aboard. My left hand tightens onto the train as I glance backward, fighting a precipitous edge to meet me that falls into a reddened oblivion.
We're halfway up the ridge at this point. That's... an over a thousand-foot fall.
I gather every ounce of strength, every iota of willpower, and I pull with everything I have left, hefting my lower body close to the wall of the rearmost cabin, the one in the most threat of tipping it over.
The decision is made before I look for a way out. My eyes scan my surroundings, searching for Primrose's Colt, but I don't find it. It's lost to the winds. Closing my eyes, I Release my legs, then pour as much Ether as I can spare into the limbs without immediately dying from Ether saturation.
I sense a gaze lock onto my body as I finish my preparations, and as the train tilts beyond the point of simply being pulled back on track by anyone, Virgil finds me dangling from the side. Embalmed by a dozen Nightwhips, he extends his hand for me, but I shake my head.
My legs press against the train with all the force I can possibly muster. The metal groans and shatters under the weight of the impact, and my heart pounds in my chest as I watch the wall buckle and bend while growing smaller in my sight, inching back toward its proper place. It's a reckless gamble, but it's our only chance.
As I hurtle through the chaotic storm and over the cliff face, I search for any possible way to save myself. A Leash extends from my hand toward the train, but its speed swiftly makes it swiftly leave my range. The winds buffet me mercilessly, hauling me even further away, and the red sands whip around, lacerating into my flesh. My mind races as I attempt to devise a plan, but it becomes increasingly clear that there's no escape from this free fall. Even Blodwyn's flesh can't extend that far.
With a heavy heart, I contort my body, trying to minimize the damage that's sure to come. I brace for the inevitable impact, hoping it won't be as painful as it seems. Having my legs underneath me and my head tucked in will likely keep me from instantly dying. And as long as I don't perish in a moment, Blodwyn can bring us back.
But something unexpected happens before I fall further to my demise. From the swirling shadows, a figure emerges, lunging toward me with incredible speed. They leap from what appear to be platforms of solidified darkness, reaching out to save me from my impending doom.
Virgil!
Like greased lightning, the man shifts through the air, sprinting upon his own Ether, but my heart wavers as I know his condition. He could barely even stand! What is he doing!?
Despite my thoughts, hope flares in my chest for a brief, surreal moment. Salvation is within reach, an unexpected rescue from the depths of despair. But then, as the shadowy figure reaches for me, only a single step away, disaster strikes. Virgil's leg gives out, and I see a bone jutting out, a gruesome injury that's impossible to walk on.
He crumples with a silent cry, and I see him tumble sideways, something he can't possibly recover from before we hit the ground.
We both begin to fall in that instant, and there's no way to alter our course. We're plummeting toward the ground, caught in the relentless grip of gravity, and there's no escape from the impact that awaits.
The ground, invisible now due to the red sand that covers us in every direction from the storm arriving, is fast approaching. I look at Virgil as we tumble in a freefall and reach for him. He won't survive the impact. His eyes are rolled into the back of his head.
The bastard complains about me pushing myself too far, and look at him! Gritting my teeth, I extend my arm toward him, not quite reaching before I use a long-unused skill. Reach, exploding tiny bits of air in my arm extends the length of the limb just far enough to touch him as I yank him in close. It takes less than a Leash, and I have very little energy to spare, let alone Ether.
Covering him with my arms, I twist in the air, placing myself beneath him in a tiny moment. Then, less than a second later, I feel a brutal impact against my spine. The bone cracks and contorts as pain flashes and then abruptly halts. My eyes widen in alarm as we only continue our plummet.
Though the situation is deadly, my vision wavers with darkness, threatening to put me out. Each moment is stretched into an agonizing eternity, and I fight to stay awake every second, to keep my consciousness intact. Blodwyn grumbles into my ears as he floods me with warmth, doing all he can to recover my spine.
Our journey downward is fraught with peril, and each collision with the jagged rocks is brutal proof of our doom. My body absorbs the brunt of successive impacts without much issue as I expect them, absorbing the punishing blows as they come. The wounds multiply quickly, adding up despite Blodwyn's Angelic prowess. A relentless barrage of pain and suffering overflows my whole body as my spine returns to capacity.
Tightening my jaw, I force myself to be conscious despite the pain and exhaustion. Virgil is out, and Blodwyn, while capable, can't do this alone.
As we tumble through the crimson chaos, my back is suddenly perforated by a starkly red rock as my right arm crashes against the wall, getting stuck in the ridge. I can feel the pointed stone emerging slightly from my chest, poking against Virgil. And despite the pain threatening to overwhelm me, I realize that we've reached a point of calm. The stone through my body has temporarily prevented us from falling. Blood gushes from the wound, mingling with the swirling sands before falling down, only to be caught by the winds.
I gaze upward, hoping to find something, anything to help, but there is only sand. My eyes shift over to my right arm as my left holds Virgil close to me. I rip myself off the rock with a pain-infused cry, letting us dangle from my stuck arm. More blood sinks to the distant ground as I tighten my grip around Virgil. I leverage my hanging arm, attempting to wrench myself free to grab onto a nearby handhold, but my arm doesn't budge.
Gazing up, I find the prosthetic partially bent sideways, my arm sporting two elbows. The pain is far duller than all others, thanks to it not genuinely being my flesh, but I still grimace at the sight. No one ever wants to see their own arm this fucked up.
Exhaustion abruptly dives into my eyes, nearly closing them as I realize just how much blood I've lost. Blodwyn's healing is prodigious, roughly unstoppable, in fact.
But...
He's been healing me for hours.
It's about time he falls into slumber. Mie told me earlier that he is not at his full potential just after awakening. Blodwyn needs time to grow into his new being—time to learn how to speak, how to better use Ether, and how to grow more resilient.
As my thoughts race, they begin to splinter, the darkness creeping in as the warmth from Blodwyn fades. One moment, the moon is vaguely visible through tons of sand; the next, it's gone, so indiscernible with the rising tides of sand that I can't even be certain whether the sun is up either. My consciousness ebbs and flows, a disjointed journey through time as we both try to recover. I wake, each time clawing my way back from the abyss for only moments at a time, just long enough to make sure I still hold onto Virgil. It's like emerging from a bottomless pit, only to be dragged under again by the relentless undertow of agony and exhaustion.
Every moment I rest, the sand digs into Virgil and me, even as I cover him with my own flesh. It's grating, infectious, and unrelenting as I'm drawn back into the dark.
Time loses its grip in this shattered reality. Minutes stretch into agonizing eternities, while hours compress into fleeting moments. It's impossible to tell whether I've been trapped here for minutes, hours, or days.
The world around me is a swirling chaos of agonizing clouds of dust. Suddenly, I'm overwhelmed by a cacophony of sensations—screams, roars, the howling wind, and my own labored breathing. Trembling, I gasp as I wake up, my mind clear and spacious. Yet, even with this lucidity, my wounds are not entirely gone. My chest feels like a gaping wound, throbbing with pain.
Glancing down, I find it still raw, the opening only barely closed with tender flesh. As I inspect myself, I notice Virgil's condition. He is still unconscious, his skin hot to the touch. Then cold. Then both.
Nononono.
No!
Dangling, I try to force myself free as roars from below fill the air and frantically search for any sign of time. Ether fills my eyes as Insight pierces through the clouds momentarily, allowing me to see the moon that has only slightly shifted in the sky.
My heart settles slightly. I wasn't out for very long. Only an hour at most, despite what it felt like. That... or I was out for a full day. No. If Virgil is still alive, it could have only been a short time. Blodwyn and I must have been constantly switching back and forth.
"Blodwyn?"
I plead for my companion, but he hardly responds with a word.
"Mhmm."
Fuck. Blodwyn must be beyond fatigued. I need to get Virgil out of here and up the cliff now. Acute Ether saturation does not play around. How long did I have before the effects started to kill me the first time? It gets worse with each consecutive instance and with the distance one goes beyond the edge, but the first took time to affect me.
An hour? Two? I don't remember. It was all so fuzzy. It might have even been several hours. What I do know now, however, is that my resilience is uncommon. And my body was fully recovered when the woes of the condition befell me.
Virgil?
He's not at the Pale Lady's door, but I wouldn't say he's far from it.
He's low on time. And I'm stuck on the side of a half-mile-tall cliff. Which one of my fucking ancestors made this damned thing!? By the Devil.
They're kicking me in the ass from the grave. Heh.
I glance back up at my stuck arm and sigh. It won't break off if I rip it. The metal is far more robust than the stone, but the steel will probably warp some more. I swirl Ether in my feet as I coat them with Chainlink Boots. Then, I yank my arm backward with all my strength, wrenching it free from the nook that held it from me.
It's wrongly bent, but my hand still works, thanks to Earl's preparative construction. He knew it would get this banged up. Shifting over a bit as my weight is difficult to hold with Chainlink Boots, I grab onto the handhold near me and climb up using one hand. Slowly, I rise, foot by foot, until I reach a small ledge that I roll onto with Virgil, inhaling a breath of relief.
My back hits the blemished stone as sand invades my lungs like every other breath I've taken. But the moment I do, I feel something different about this sand. It's not filled with Ether but some broken sense of purpose.
The instincts hidden within the deep recesses of my blood explode with a warning, and I scream into my own mind, pleading for Blodwyn's Power, as I grab Virgil tightly. I don't even give myself time to search for the origin of this threat as the dust within my lungs rails against me, trying to break out through the inside.
"Blodwyn! Mute!"
The artifact grumbles as it slowly moves to wakefulness, but I feel a massive surge of air around me, the winds moving along with it. Pivoting sideways on the ledge, I realize I can't see any further than the length of my hand. A coldness runs up my fingers and to my spine.
Something's found me.
I shift and sprint, leaping upwards as I shabbily tie Virgil to me with Leashes, the Ether fragile and worrisome as I frantically shimmy my way up the rocks. With every aching muscle, I pull myself upward, my fingertips clawing into the unforgiving rock. My body protests with each movement, but I carry onward with more than just haste for Virgil.
And then, it comes. A tremor that reverberates through the very bones of the earth. I can't explain how I know, but I'm certain. The feeling is one that enters my core, like that of a decree from the depths of reality. The strongest man alive, the one who was attacked by quadruple his number and likely more than one God, has ascended to Godhood. A coldness that I'm unused to races down my spine, knowing that our already dire situation has taken an even darker turn.
As if in response to my realization, the sandstorm around me roars to life with newfound fury. The winds tear at the cliff face, ripping off entire chunks of rock. My grip on the precipice tightens, my knuckles turning white as I dig in further with my Chainlink Boots and rusted fingers.
Then, I see movement in the corner of my eye, what I've been concerned about. A disembodied face, composed entirely of swirling sand and dust, all of it tainted by the ominous crimson hue, hangs without latch or grip in the air beside me. At its center, a grotesque, pulsating heart beats with a wicked rhythm, shielded by the maelstrom of danger that surrounds it.
My breath catches as I hang there, just out of the entity's reach, feeling the malevolence radiating from it—the color of its chains is what concerns me the most.
What have you done, Vincent?
Magenta curls off the heart with tightly bound fetters. I don't even try to fight it in my current condition, and I leap upward, climbing with all the fury I can muster, but the winds refuse to accept my choice. Forces pull at me every which way as the... being shifts closer.
A bizarre, inhuman noise echoes into the air as the rocks I hold onto depart the cliff, a massive portion of the ridge breaking off with me attached. With a deep breath of air, one half of Ether that fuels me and half with a dangerous hint, I lunge forward, attempting to gain leverage to rejoin the cliff.
But before I can jump off the falling rock, the creature places itself between me and the cliff, laughing with a crack in the air. I hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do as I hang suspended in the air for a precarious instant, but the endless makes the choice for me.
A powerful gust, one that reminds me more of Sequester's focused strikes than that of a storm's gales, rips me off the cliff with a sharp slash to my chest, taking Virgil and me straight away and then downward to the ground. This time, there is no grabbing onto the rocks with how far we're flung, and all I can do is grab the man and brace for impact.
I inhale another gasp, defying my wanted death as Ether fills me to the brim. All there is for me to see as we tumble with deadly speeds to the earth is reddened dust, like that of spilled blood from Bonedunes, where Virgil and I first met.
Then, there is only darkness.
